#219 / Matryoshka

Matryoshka, or "Russian Nesting Dolls," were all over the place when I was in Moscow earlier this year. I like them as a metaphor. Inside every discovery, we discover another; inside every reality, there is a secret.

It's more or less the same thing as "there is no end to life," a phrase I read both ways: no objective; no real termination.

Of course, the matryoshka aren't a perfect representation of this particular thought. Sooner or later, with the matryoshka, there is a final, tiny secret, a last in the series doll. That is a metaphor, too, in its way: how small, yet sweet, is the end of the adventure.